My Grief Lies Onward, And My Joy

But If The While I Think On Thee, Dear Friend, All Losses Are Restored And Sorrows End.

An Earnest Conjuration From The King, As England Was His Faithful Tributary, As Love Between Them Like The Palm Might Flourish, As Peace Should Still Her Wheaten Garland Wear And Stand A Comma 'tween Their Amities, And Many Such-like As's Of Great Charge, That, On The View And Knowing Of These Contents, Without Debatement Further, More Or Less, He Should The Bearers Put To Sudden Death, Not Shriving Time Allow'd.

Hung Be The Heavens With Black! Yield, Day, To Night!

Did He So Often Lodge In Open Field, In Winter's Cold And Summer's Parching Heat, To Conquer France, His True Inheritance?

There Is No Love-broker In The World Can More Prevail In Man's Commendation With Woman Than Report Of Valor.